


Hang in There...it MIGHT Get Better

by LoveDrift



Series: From Rodion With Love: Tales of Love, Loss, and Despair with a Touch of Sunshine. [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, original characters that are barely there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:13:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveDrift/pseuds/LoveDrift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I have no idea where this is going...It popped in me head and I went with it and this be all I gotz! Forgive me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Should I write more? Maybe...dunno know...I had to get it out and put it out...I apologize for all errors...

Gasket paces nervously in the little, dilapidated building he shares with Drift and a few other vagrants, misfits and outcasts. His thoughts devoted entirely to the little speedster; the mech who has so very quickly captured his spark. He’s worried. It’s been over a full two days since he’s seen Drift and it’s not like him to vanish like this, even if he’s chasing a fix.

“Gasket, would you calm the frag down? You’re driving us crazy,” Breaker, fellow vagrant, outcast and misfit huffs with a touch of a humor, meant to lighten the mood, “Drift’s fine; I’m sure of it!”

“More like he’s off boostin’ somewhere’s or down on his knees tryin’ ta get ‘em! Honestly, Gasket, I really don’t know what you see in him. He’s a right slaggin’ mess, that one and everyone here knows it, ‘cept you!” 

Gasket shoots Camgear a hard glare warning him to watch his mouth. The normally optimistic and good natured mech just doesn’t have the energy to get into yet another debate about Drift right now. “He’s my mess, Cam and I’m going to find him and bring him home,”

“You’re fraggin’ crazy, Gasket…fraggin’ INSANE! It’s late, the enforcers are out in full and it’s slaggin’ raining! He’s not worth it and he never will be.”

“He’s worth it to me,” Before heading out into the nasty weather, Gasket turns back to face Camgear, “And that’s precisely my point! He could be hurt! You know as well as I do that he fuels less than all of us combined…he’s weak…he NEEDS me.” With that, Gasket takes off, slamming the door behind him; glad for once that there they have no power so that he COULD slam the door. 

* * *

 

Drift knew it was gonna be bad when three more mechs entered the rundown motel room, joining their other two friends, but the price was good. Really good. He could get fuel for everyone he lived with , a couple of circuit boosters for himself so that he wouldn’t need to fuel, which meant more for Gasket annnnnnd he might even have enough left over to buy Gasket those oil and mineral drinks he likes so much.

When they told him they wanted to beat him first, because that was their “kink”, he began to have doubts. Serious doubts. Really, REALLY serious doubts. But…maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It’d all be worth it, he had told himself.

It was when they snapped his legs and hip joints and then his arms that Drift realized he was in deep, deep trouble. And then when he could barely see from the constant pummeling of five pairs of hands, and was leaking a fairly sizable puddle of energon that it dawned on him that his fee was now his repair bill.

It wasn’t until three spikes pounded mercilessly into his small valve, one spike pumping ruthlessly into his mouth, and oh Primus why, and one spike violating his spark chamber, that he had a pristine moment of clarity: He was not getting paid. He was going to die. He was going to die listening to these monsters laugh over his decimated frame as they drag him outside and leave him to rot in the pouring rain among the refuse in the gutter. Serve and protect his aft.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait!! Enjoy! XD

The rain was coming down heavier as Gasket made his way through the gutters, calling out Drift’s name till his vocalizer hurt. Primus help him, but he couldn’t find him. He checked everywhere. Well, almost everywhere. He was hoping that Drift wouldn’t do it, wouldn’t go there. They had discussed it several times and decided-all of them, well, Camgear wasn’t exactly on board; his hatred of Drift was starting to get problematic, that if they had to, absolutely had to sell their frames for chanix, than it would be Gasket, Cam or Breaker. Not Drift. Never ever again. The last time was really bad. Drift almost didn’t make it. Gasket shudders and vents harshly, his gut knotting as he makes his way to the Red-light district. Oh Drift, please be okay…please.

****

After several conversations and a few chanix later, no closer to Drift than he was before, Gasket walks into their local “motel”, looking even more desperate than usual and he really hopes it isn’t all that obvious.

“Hey, Condenser,”

“Hiya, Gasket. If you’re here about that mech of yours with the scowl permanently etched on his face, you owe me three hundred chanix. His pretty little aft has been holed up in my best suite for the past two days and I haven’t been paid yet! I also haven’t seen tailpipe or manifold of any of the five mechs who went in there with him. I need recompense. Now, I don’t mean to be harsh or nothing, but I do own a business here,”

Gasket’s optics widen as he listens to Condenser, his spark wrenching with worry at the mention of five mechs. “I understand, friend. Um, which room is it? I will go collect Drift.”

Condenser frowns and nods, handing Gasket a key. “Twenty-seven…and see that you do,” He watches as Gasket makes his way up the stairs and calls out after him. “Damages are extra!”

Gasket rolls his optics, each step he takes fear tightening around his spark. “Oh Drift, what were you thinking? Well, here we are. Drift?! You okay? You in there? It’s me, Gasket…I know, I know, you hate that cos you know it’s me. I’m coming in,” He slides the key through the reader and walks through the opening door, gasping as he takes in the energon coated room. “Oh Primus…” Gasket frantically searches the room finding only pieces of Drift among the various fluids covering the room. “No no no no…this can’t be happening…” Gasket bounds out into the hallway and rushes down the stairs, running up to Condenser.

“Well? Ya got my chanix? Where’s your friend?”

Gasket fixes him with the darkest look he can muster. “No, I don’t and I won’t! There is no one in there and from the looks of it my friend was beaten to death! Is there another way out of here? A back entrance? Exit?”

“What? No way! Never! I resent you even implying anything like that,” Condenser folds his arms over his chest defiantly.

“Is there a BACK ENTRANCE OR EXIT!?” Gasket is furious, desperate with worry and it must show because Condenser shakily points behind and to the left of himself as he nods. Wasting no time at all Gasket darts down the hall flying out the back entrance/exit and right into the alleyway behind the motel. The rain hammers down pelting Gasket’s plating as his optics scan every crevice in the dimly lit alley. “Drift! DRIIIIIIFT! Where are you?!” Gasket’s vocalizer shorts as he screams,; almost sobbing for his speedster. “DRIIIIIIIFT!!!” He silently curses the rain for washing away any trail there might have been, walking aimlessly around the alley. “DRIIIIIIIFT!!!! DRIIIIIFT!!!” 

Drift distantly hears Gaskets’ cries for him, struggling desperately to get his vocalizer to work, trying to remain conscious. “…uhn….G-Guh...G-Gask…..urgh…”Drifts’ voice is barely audible, a pained whisper in the torrential pummeling around him.

Gasket pauses before yelling again, hands cupped around his mouth, and cants his helm, listening, swearing he heard a groan. He walks toward the direction of the sound and waits, audio turned up as high as it can go.

“…urgh…h-hu….h-help…” The speedster groans in agony, slagging hell does he feel terrible! Drift struggles to move his heavily damaged frame out from the drainage gutter only to arch his back and howl brokenly in agony. His spark flares and for a brief moment bright blue light emanates from his chest lighting up the dark alleyway.

Gasket catches the brief flash from Drift’s spark out of the corner of his optic and rushes over, kneeling down beside Drift. “Drift!! Oh, Drift! Oh Primus...Drift!” Gasket’s spark breaks as he looks his speedster over.

Drift manages to open his optics, his vision distorted through the cracked lenses. He blearily looks up at Gasket, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “…s’b-bad…urgh…c-can feel it…”

“Shh… it will be alright. You’re g-gonna be just fine. I promise,” Gasket smiles through the tears that slide down his cheeks along with the rain, knowing that Drift’s smile was just for him, despite the tremendous amount of pain the smaller mech is in. Gasket gently slides his arms under the speedster, “This is gonna hurt, Drift…I’m sorry,” and picks him up, cradling him to his chest.

The howl of agony that demands release from Drift’s vocalizer stalls and dies, a tiny whimper being the only sound that escapes; the level of pain overwhelmingly excruciating as he is picked up. “…Gask…uhn….urgh….”

Gasket nuzzles his helm against Drifts' as he carries the speedster to the drop-in clinic a few blocks away, trying his best to comfort. “I know Drift, I know. I’m so sorry. We’ll get you fixed up and it will be okay. Oh Drift…what were you thinking? We…I, told you not to do this…Drift, your valve…it…you can’t! My worst fear has come true and I don’t want to lose you. Why on Cybertron would you do this?”

Drift shivers, denta clattering together, as he speaks, “…d-did it for fuel…we're low…price was…g-good…was gonna…” the grey and white mech takes a moment to gather the strength to continue, “…g-gonna get you those …oil drinks…y-you like…” another twitch at the corners of his mouth just for Gasket.

“Oh Drift…you crazy mech…you crazy, crazy mech,” Gasket gently presses his lips to the trembling mech in his arms. “I love you, Drift…so very much.” 

“…l-love y-you too, Gask…” Drift manages another tiny smile before going strutless as the darkness claims him yet again.

“Drift! Oh, Drift, hang on! Please hang on!” Gasket tightens his hold on his speedster and runs as fast as his legs will allow to Ratchet’s drop-in clinic, praying to Primus that his love will survive long enough to make it there.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I FINALLY got around to updating! lol Took me long enough! Good news though! I do believe the bunnies are back! So *fingers crossed* I will more updates for all my stories in the upcoming months! Thank you all for your patience!

Ratchet finally finishes updating his patient’s charts for the day, and leans back in his chair taking a luxurious stretch of his tired and aching limbs. It has been a looooooong day in his Dead End clinic and it had him working well into the night. Ratchet is more than ready to lay his helm down and pass out, not even having the energy to transform and head home. Frag it. He’ll stay here. The medic sighs tiredly and stands, stretching again, his optics taking in the storm raging outside his barred windows. For some reason, inclement weather always seems to bring out the worst in people which then leads to his door revolving endlessly. Then again, this IS the Dead End, and, bad weather or not, the worst is pretty much the standard down here. 

Ratchet shakes his helm as if to rid his processor of his dark musings while he starts to clean up. He picks up a broken off circuit booster from another overdosing patient, and the ambulance’s thoughts now stray to that broken, beautiful— _special_ —young mech Orion Pax brought to him several months ago, and if he’s honest with himself, Ratchet hasn’t stopped thinking about the kid. He hasn’t seen that lost spark since that day and that has the medic very worried. Ratchet tries to remain hopeful the kiddo went to the Functionalists and a got job, instead of returning to selling his “one remaining asset” and boosting. The kid sure did grab a hold of his spark…

*****

Gasket holds Drift tight to his frame as he runs, his pedes splashing through puddles of Primus-knows-what, hurriedly making his way to Ratchet’s clinic. Tears stream down Gasket’s cheeks as Drift’s energon streams down his torso and legs; the rain hard and unforgiving as it pelts Gasket’s chassis, the droplets hissing on contact with his frame. 

“Please, Drift…please hang on! We’re almost there…please…” Gasket slides to a stop in front of the darkened clinic, fear reaching up and squeezing his spark tight. “Oh no no no no nooooo! He has to be here!” 

Gasket is desperate and starts to panic. He kicks the door with his pede a few times and screams. “RATCHET!!! HELP!!! PLEASE!!! OPEN UP! HELP!!! RATCHET! RATCHET PLEASE!!!”

 

Ratchet is torn from his thoughts and cleaning when he hears the distraught mech at his door. “Hang on,” Ratchet yells as he rushes over, though he doubts his voice was heard.

Gasket attempts another kick just as the door is opened. Relief floods his field when he sees Ratchet. “Oh thank Primus! Ratchet…it’s Drift…P-Please help him!”

_So that’s the kid’s name…_

Ratchet’s optics widen as he looks Drift over. “Give him here and get in!”

Gasket gently hands over his friend and steps inside, dripping and trembling. He quickly closes the door and hurries after Ratchet.

Ratchet rushes over to a medberth and gently sets Drift down, quick to scan and asses the battered and brutalized mechs condition. Not good. Not good at all. The kid is bad and the last thing Ratchet needs is whats-his-face hovering. 

“What’s your name again?” Ratchet doesn’t bother to look up at the frightened mech as he hurriedly hooks the unconscious mech up to several transfusion lines and monitors.

 

Gasket stands frozen in place shivering, very upset. “G-Guhgasket, s-s-sir…i-is…is Drift—“

“Gasket, listen to me, I need you to go get dried off. Once you’re dry, I want you to warm up some energon for yourself and fuel,”

“B-But…but Drift…”

“I’ll take care of Drift. I want you warm and fueled. And rested. Drift will expect you to be well when he wakes. Okay? It’s gonna be a while, Gasket, so dry, fuel, get warm, and rest. Everything you need is in the back room. Take a hot shower too if you like. Now go. Please,”

The thought of a full tank, a hot shower, and an actual berth is far too tempting to resist. And the doc is right. Drift would want him to be taken care of. Not like there is anything for Gasket to do anyway. Drift is in good hands. Gasket remains where he is, watching as Drift’s energon continues to spill from his tortured frame, dripping and collecting in purplish pink puddles on the floor. 

“O-Okay…I…he…”

“…will be fine, Gasket,” Ratchet curses internally, his spark breaking as he begins the tedious, painstaking repairs needed to save this poor kid. Ratchet’s special spark.

Gasket nods and turns, heading to the back room as instructed. After he crosses the threshold, he drops to his knees and sobs into his hands.

Ratchet’s spark twists in agony as he suctions away energon that had leaked into Drift’s spark chamber. 

“Aw, kid, who did this to you? How could they hurt you like this?” Ratchet’s optics flick down to Drift’s ruined interface array and he growls, rage and fury filling his spark at what was done to Drift.

_This needs to be reported. Gonna have to call Pax…_

“Stay with me, kid. You’re safe. You’ll always be safe with me…” Ratchet shoves his feelings aside and works furiously to save his Drift. His special spark.


End file.
